Archive for January, 2006
Chuck Noris Day
Apparently, today is Chuck Norris Day. Here I am, minding my own business, reading my daily blogs (it’s like reading the daily newspaper, only much less sophisticated), and I’m surrounded!
First, Jon Abad, a fellow WPI grad, pointed out a “quickie” reference to a Tony Danza interview with Chuck Norris. (Perhaps, if you are not familiar with the concept of “Chuck Norris Facts,” you might want to visit this one last.)
Then, while catching up on WWdN:IE, I found Wil’s reference to a Chuck Norris sighting from back in the day. I thought that was a little weird, but I kind of let it slip from my mind through the rest of the day.
Now, I see that Bloglines has marked Al Can’t Hang‘s blog as updated, and he starts today’s post with a quote from Chuck Norris Facts. (Newcomers to “Chuck Norris Facts,” this is your starting point.)
Okay, that pretty much caused my brain to explode. I popped out of a pretty productive state of working and had to tell you all about Chuck Norris. It’s insane. I suppose I’ll also link you to The Man’s official website as well. Just so you can get the full effect of Chuck Norris Day.
“In a fight between Batman and Darth Vader, the winner would be Chuck Norris.”
– Chuck Norris Facts
Brain Jumps
It amuses me what the brain can do. I was just sitting here at my desk, writing up a bland document, listening to LaunchCast’s commercial-free Indie Rock channel. I was minding my own business, typing up a storm (and I do mean a storm – I often get comments from coworkers about how ridiculously fast and loudly I type – plus I have carpel tunnel in both wrists, and that must have come from somewhere). Out of nowhere (okay, not nowhere, out of LaunchCast’s stream) came “Some Red Handed Slight of Hand” by Cursive.
Maybe you know the song. Maybe not. I didn’t know it by title, but I immediately recognized the opening licks.
I go through phases where I play a lot of SSX. The SSX series of video games ties with the Karaoke Revolution series as my favorite video games ever. SSX is the reason I decided it would be a good idea to try snowboarding. That could perhaps be foolish. Whatever. It’s a serious addiction.
It also has shown me a lot of music I never would select to listen to myself. I like a huge variety of different music. I like pop, vocal jazz, alternarock, indie, r&b, classical, electronica, hard rock, soft rock, instrumental jazz… I’ve even been known to enjoy the occasional country song (though that’s a last resort, really). But really, I spend most of my listening time in the car. And my car’s radio pretty much lives on “Mix” 98.5. I don’t know why they call themselves “Mix” – well, they do have “Whatever Weekends” where they actually play a variety. Most of the rest of the time they play top forty pop. Yes, I like being spoon-fed catchy tunes. Forgive me. Or don’t, because I don’t really care.
Anyway… SSX has introduced me to a variety of tunes that I would not hear otherwise. “Some Red Handed Slight of Hand” is one of those songs I might have missed out on or dismissed if I hadn’t swished my virtual character down the virtual mountain to the tune so many times.
Did I have a point? No, probably not. Just, I guess, that music has a huge effect on jumping the brain around. And I think that’s pretty cool.
42 Days ‘Til Spring Training!
… and only 74 until opening day!
Take me out to the ballgame!
Take me out to the crowd!
Buy me some peanuts and crackerjack!
I don’t care if I never get back,
‘Cause it’s root, root, root for the home team,
If they don’t win it’s a shame,
For it’s, “One! Two! Three strikes you’re out!”
At the old ballgame!
I am so done with football. I don’t even want to talk about it. Seriously. Leave me alone. My only consolation is that Indy lost too.
Did you watch 24 last night? You should have. I won’t tell you anything. Just that you should have watched it.
I don’t know why I’m so obsessed with television. Probably because it’s addictive and it rots the brain. Nothing wrong with a good brain-rotting every now and again. I don’t even like some of the shows I watch. 24 makes me anxious, nervous, and pukey! I hate it, but I’m in love with it anyway.
Other awesome shows that I watch even though I hate them include Battlestar Galactica and The Office. Battlestar has the same effect on me as 24 – it makes me nervous and anxious. And occasionally pukey, but it doesn’t cause me quite as much stomach distress. The Office makes me nervous because it’s a sit-com, but it’s a different kind of nervous. I hate sit-coms by there very nature.
Yet I watch all of these shows anyway. They’re too good. Damn television and it’s seductive ways!
When you have two TiVos and a DVR cable box, you know you and your boyfriend (especially your boyfriend!) are addicted. Yeah, that’s right, we can simultaneously tape four things at once. That’s not really what we do, but we could if we wanted to!
At breakfast this morning, one of my coworkers was wining about not having good audio with his new HDTV. We were giving him all kinds of suggestions, and he got nervous about the idea of adding another box to his setup. He counted up his three devices, and I snapped, “Oh, wow, three? Wow. I’ve got nine.”
Another coworker pointed out that was because my boyfriend is a “gadgetron.” I’m pretty sure that was the word he used too. He’s a strange man. Anyway, it is true. Mike likes the gadgets. I’m currently trying to hold him off from buying an even bigger and more ridiculous TV. We live in a smallish apartment. We don’t need a bigger TV. Seriously.
I played additional poker this weekend. After not winning that Omaha 8 tournament, I decided I could afford to step up a limit and try out the $1/$2 table. It was something I’d been contemplating anyway. But more like, “I wonder how big I’ll want my bankroll before I’ll feel safe jumping up there,” rather than, “Let’s do it now!” But with the doubled bankroll from this weekend, I felt pretty safe trying it out. It went well.
On average, the players aren’t really better at the higher level. The only real difference to me is that I can sit at 5-max tables, rather than starting a new full table and hoping it doesn’t get filled up too quickly. I get really bored at full tables and end up donking off money calling pre-flop bets with junk.
An embarrassing moment happened after a few hours of play. I totally misread my hand and the board. In a stellar moment of intellect, equaling that of a fine gentleman fish from the previous day’s tourney, I thought I had a full house. What I really had was three of a kind. Or two pair. I did have several redraws (what I actually had was 3 of a kind, with multiple redraws to a full house, due to the fact that my other two cards each had a partner on the board). Meanwhile, I’m raising and re-raising the guy who actually has the nuts (in this case, a straight). I am such a donkey!
You can’t have a full house if there’s no pair on the board. You can’t have a full house if there’s no pair on the board. You can’t have a full house if there’s no pair on the board.
I gave myself four big bets to calm the fuck down, saying I’d leave if I lost $8 or more before regaining control. I was quite proud of myself when I only donked off three retarded limps before I got back into my game. But by that point, my concentration was shot, so I closed out of the game up a ridiculously unsustainable amount.
I haven’t got much else to say. I hope you all had a nice weekend… I think I did. It would have been better if a certain sporting event hadn’t been so nauseatingly terrible…
…Take me out to the ballgame…
Well, I Didn’t Win
[Editor's Note: All names used below were shortened to protect the innocent... and the guilty...]
Last night, I finally cracked $200 in my Full Contact Poker bankroll. It was awesome. I was being kind of dumb about it – refusing to stop playing until I got that last $2.50. I actually went down by nearly $9 before I went on a rally to get up to $212. I was pretty darn happy with that when I was done. But it really was stupid to play with a goal. I’d say I’ll never do it again… but that’d probably be a lie.
This morning was filled with waffles and Star Trek TNG. Both of those things make me quite happy.
I was still wearing my PJs when I decided that I’d sign on to play some poker. I couldn’t get anyone to join me at a shorthanded Omaha 8 table, but while I waited, I started poking around the tournaments. There, I found an O8 Limit tournament for $20 + 2. I picked up a pillow and hugged it.
Here I was, just having doubled my initial bankroll on this site (not including bonus money – I keep that separate), and I was thinking about paying entry into a tournament that my bankroll couldn’t really afford. I hemmed and hawed, and finally signed up when I noticed that there was a $500 minimum on the prize pool. At the time, it was quite an overlay, as only 14 people had registered. So, I made it 15. I was nervous, but I didn’t chicken out.
My first two hands in the tournament were great. I picked up 600 chips to add to the 1500 I started with in only those two hands. I quickly realized that this tournament wouldn’t be all that different from playing full rings of O8. There were plenty of people calling down with over-pairs and raising with hands that smell worse than moldy cheese. There was even a guy confused as to why he had lost a hand, because he thought he could use three of his hole cards.
It took a while for people to start dropping. Limit tournaments will do that to you. We started out at 51 players, meaning that 10 places would be paid (though 9th and 10th would hardly be worthwhile). At one point early, I got up to first place, but that was short-lived. I was hovering around 12th or so when I got an important phone call. Yes, some things are more important than poker.
As the chatty guy on the other end of the phone babbled on, I sat out of the tournament getting blinded away. I kept peering in and seeing my chips disappearing across the table. When I finally convinced the chatty guy to send me some information in email instead, I had dropped to around 35th place out of about 45 or so.
I was a little disappointed. I decided that there were really only two options for playing so short stacked. Double up or go home. So I just raised and re-raised until I had doubled up twice, and I was back in the game. I was pretty lucky to get such good scooping hands right after I came back. It would not be the first time I got lucky.
The game progressed, we were down to twenty, and I was sent to a new table. This table is where I made my two biggest mistakes. I was in a hand with a short stack, and he was raising away. I didn’t really think about the fact that he was a short stack, and out of fear for the flush I didn’t have, I just called his last raise on the river. I won the hand with my three of a kind, which is awesome, but I left him with literally 6 chips because I was two dumb to realize that he was trying to go all in. I failed to knock out a short stack. As punishment to me, he managed to double, double, quintuple, and triple up back into contention. Woops!
My second mistake happened when I was bored after some endless folding. I decided to call pre-flop with nothing more than an A-2 feature. This isn’t always a terrible idea, but it definitely is when you end up heads up on the flop. The flop came all low cards (but no ace nor two), so I just started my calling station behavior. I had nothing resembling a high, and there was no one adding to the pot but the bettor and me. At showdown, he had a pair or two (it didn’t matter to me), and also had the A-2. Quartered. And not because of anything he did wrong. Woops!
Zac, the guy who took three-quarters of that pot, commented in the chat box that he hoped that was what I had. He quickly followed that with, “Calling with the low is dangerous.” I answered, laughing, that I knew that, and the whole time I was doing it I was calling myself a donkey. We both laughed about it, and chatted for the rest of the tournament. He was the kind of guy who liked to talk about peoples’ play, and I like watching it put other people on tilt.
After watching the slow death of the remaining short stacks (and winning a huge pot off of Zac on a 2-outer… but I think he forgave me), we were at the final table! My heart was racing, and there was a convenient break just after the first hand. I chatted a bit with the other people at the table; everyone seemed nice. Except Checkers. He developed an attitude problem with Zac because he talked about the hands.
Checkers asked Zac why he insisted on commenting on every hand that they both played in. He was pretty pissy about it. I almost commented, but didn’t because it was mean, that Zac commented on every hand he played on, and Checkers played every hand. Whatever. The rest of the table thought it was pretty funny.
I think my best play happened when there were 6 and 5 players remaining. I developed into a thief. I was in third, the player immediately to my left, CJ, was in second, and to his left were the two short stacks. CJ was kind of a wimp. He was obviously trying to fold into higher positions. He would occasionally call to see a flop, but would cave to the slightest pressure after that. I stole my way into second during that period.
When we were down to three, it was Checkers, me, and Zac (in that order). I made a play on Zac to take him down. I almost felt bad about it. But really, I like money.
The heads up play with Checkers went on for quite a while. We swapped the lead many times. But I made at least two significant donkey calls, and got unlucky at a couple inopportune times. I was a little upset that I couldn’t take down our nemesis Checkers. I didn’t win.
But I did come in second. For a payday of $224!
I doubled up my bankroll twice in as many days.
Sweet!
If Only I Knew How To Stop (part five of a series)
Mike’s parents both had to go back to work the next day, so we bid them goodbye as we went to bed. I love his family. They treat me very nicely, and they’re super friendly. Kate even told me once that she likes me more than her brother. Hehehe…
I told everyone I’d likely be up pretty early the next morning. I actually slept until about 8:30, which is pretty late for me. I got ready, and woke up Mike. Kate got herself up. I was sitting on the sofa in the living room just outside the bathroom door doing a Sudoku puzzle. (Mike gave me a couple books of them for Christmas. They are the awesome.)
Next thing I know, Kate comes flying out of the bathroom door and flops down on the other sofa. I was obviously worried, and asked her what was wrong. She let me know that she had almost passed out, and silently laid on the sofa for a while. When she decided it was safe to sit up, she told me that when she’d put pressure on her left arm, the pain was so bad that she started to pass out. She was proud of herself for getting out to the sofa rather than collapsing in a heap on the bathroom floor.
I started asking her if she wanted to go back to the hospital. She assured me she was fine. I didn’t believe her, but I’m not her mother; I can’t make her do anything.
Luckily, her mother called just about then. Somehow, between that conversation, and my saying I’d go with her, we were on our way to the hospital. We left poor Mike and his friend Post Concussive Syndrome on the sofa to take a nap, and we got in Mike’s car and headed back down the hill to the very same hospital I’d been in only sixteen hours earlier.
The hospital up north there actually has a walk-in clinic. (This is a shocker to me because there are no such things in Massachusetts.) This is good because Kate really believes that she’s fine and she’s only here because her mom told her to go. But the triage nurse had other opinions, and sent her on into the ER.
While Kate was registering her insurance and the like, I went wandering in search of a beverage. I finally did find the hospital cafeteria, and while I was asking for change to use in the beverage machine, one of Kate’s mom’s friends spotted me. It turns out she’s a nurse, so I gave her the whole story, all injuries included. Probably the entire town knew by lunchtime. I excused myself saying that Kate didn’t know I’d wandered off, bought a ginger ale and a bag of pizza-pretzel combos, and wandered back to the ER waiting room.
Kate was out of registration, but wasn’t too worried that I’d left her behind, thankfully. We shared the combos as we waited for her name to be called for the ER. When she thought she was next in line, an ambulance pulled up. We waited another twenty minutes after that.
The ER did not have a doctor on duty, just a Physician’s Assistant. Now, please forgive me, I don’t know what exactly a PA is capable of or what their training is in. But honestly, in this guys case, it didn’t seem to matter. He was just mean.
He poked around in her arm a bit, and found the bone that caused her face to contort in pain. He sent her to X-ray, explaining that it is often hard to find this kind of break in an X-ray, but if it is broken, and not stabilized, she could experience bone death. Bone death! I didn’t even know such a thing existed, but it sounds pretty awful.
When Mike and I went to REI to get our helmets, we also picked up some wrist guards. Someone at work had mentioned them to me when I talked about wanting to ride, and Mike and I both have carpel tunnel (symptom of being a software engineer), so we picked them up. We failed to mention such a thing to Kate. Their dad didn’t have them either, but he only decided to come with us about twelve hours before we left for the mountain.
Tip #12 for first-time snowboarders: Get wrist guards. The EMTs in the ambulance told Mike that they take six snowboarders a week to the hospital with wrist injuries. It is the most common snowboarding injury.
The whole time that we were waiting for registration, triage, registration, ER, the PA, and the X-ray results, Kate expressed her concern about having to wear a cast. She’s going on a super awesome vacation in the beginning of March, and she wants to be able to swim in the ocean. Luckily, when the PA came back in after the X-rays, he came with a wrist and thumb support that she could take off to shower with, and that she might be able to take off forever in only two weeks.
Kate was not thrilled, but I was relieved to see that she had real advice about what to do with her arm.
We got back to the house and loaded Mike’s Element. (Yeah, an Element. Yeah, it’s ugly. But at least he didn’t get the orange one…) Mike was in no shape to drive. Kate had no usefulness in her left arm. I hate driving an automatic, but I was at least physically capable of driving, so I had that opportunity.
It was a long drive home. But we made it in one… I mean three… I mean several pieces held together with string and removable casts. Kate’s car was covered in snow, but I was an idiot and forgot that she was one-arm-down. I sent her off to clean her car while we unloaded, saying I’d bring her stuff over. When I did just that, Kate was still struggling. I apologized and finished off the car for her. We put her stuff in the back, and sent her on home.
Tip #13 for first-time snowboarders: Despite the crazy story I’ve been telling you, snowboarding is hell-a-fun. Don’t let the unluckiness of our trip spoil the chances of your experiencing such fun. I definitely intend to go again (and again and again, it was fun!).
If Only I Knew How to Stop (part four of a series)
Tip #10 for first-time snowboarders: Wear your helmet. I’m not kidding. I don’t care how ugly you think it is. Wear the damn thing. It might save your life.
I was patiently waiting at the bottom of the hill when Kate finally got to me. She said she was going inside, that she was done. I agreed that I was tired and it should soon be time to go home. I figured Mike couldn’t be too far behind, but he never came. I scanned for him, and I soon saw something scary. It was a ski patrol guy heading straight for me.
“Are you Diane?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. Mike’s going to be okay. It’s going to look worse than it is. He complained about a neck injury, and we have to take him to the hospital. We’ll give him oxygen, and we’ll put him on a backboard. It’s just a precaution, but we have to follow the procedure.”
I was stunned. I started freaking out. The ski patrol guy was going to go back up to help, but decided to stay with me instead. Kate had been watching through the windows of the lodge, and came out to find out what was happening. I told her, and she went in to get their mom and my shoes while I went with the ski patrol guy to the first aid hut. He asked me questions, I answered them, Mike’s mom answered a couple more, Mike got into the ambulance, I didn’t go in with him.
I hate ambulances. Okay, that’s not really it. I’m petrified of them. When I was a kid, I was epileptic. I’ve grown out of it (yes, that’s possible) now, but when I was little, I had a lot of seizures. I don’t remember too much, aside from the testing with all kinds of electrodes and the waking up in ambulances. Ambulances are not fun places to wake up.
Anyway, they told us which hospital they were going to, which conveniently enough is in the town Mike’s family lives in, and we all grabbed our stuff and headed there too. I went with Mike’s mom, and Kate went with her dad. Mike’s mom is always really nice. And even though we were both obviously worried, we managed to laugh a little bit about it.
We got there just ahead of Kate and her dad, and started talking with the registration nurse. She asked all kinds of questions while we patiently tried to answer. Mike’s insurance card was with him, not us, so we told her we’d have to try to get it. She finally let us go on into the ER.
Mike was in the biggest room, with his head stabilized. He was strapped down to a back board and he had an IV attached. The doctor came in, along with several other hospital type people to get him off the back board. They did have to keep the neck collar on until they could see what was going on in there. We got his insurance card from his pocket, and sent that in to registration. Then the X-rays.
The hospital was way nicer than the ones down here in Massachusetts. They didn’t mind that Mike had two visitors, and they even let me (a non-related party!) go with him to X-ray. I sat outside while they took each picture, but I could talk to him while they were developing the slides. After the first slide, the X-ray tech took off the collar. By the way, apparently necks come in sizes. Mike’s neck is a size 3. I’m sure you didn’t care.
They took a couple more X-rays just to be sure, but it looks like Mike just had a bit of whiplash. Oh yeah. And a concussion. And he was wearing a helmet. As he got prepped to leave the hospital, the nurse told him in no uncertain words, “Throw out your helmet and get a new one.” He also encouraged Mike to try again, the old get back on the horse routine. We looked at the helmet later, and it definitely had become malformed in the accident.
Tip #11 for first-time snowboarders: If you are unlucky enough to get a concussion wearing your helmet, you must get a new one. Most helmets are only intended for one major impact. And by the way, wear a helmet.
Kate and her dad had already left the hospital to go home and shower. This was a mistake, but I’ll get to that later. The drive home was simple and safe, and soon we were all showered and sitting on chairs in front of the television. Mike’s dad’s butt hurt. Mike’s head hurt. Kate’s arm hurt. And I was sore and bruised, but otherwise okay. They complained about their abs, but mine seemed fine (thank you, Donna!). They complained about their butts, but mine seemed fine (we have more work to do, Donna!) After the complaining died down, we all just sat and ate some turkey soup and garlic bread, soothing our souls…
Your Lucky Day!
A few quick things.
This morning, I decided I wanted some protein for breakfast, and I’m out of protein bars, so I went to the double D. To do this, I do kind of a loop around on back roads to end up in the right direction on a divided highway. There is actually a Dunkin’s across the street from the one I go to, but then I’d have to whip a u-ie to get heading towards work, and that intersection is pretty sucky. Anyway, I’m sitting at the light waiting to turn right (as it says, “No turn on red”), and I’m probably about 5 feet back from a small truck. To my right is the gas station. (To my left is the other gas station. I live in suburbia. Deal.) As I’m sitting there, humming along to the radio, this other medium sized truck decides to cut between us! I wouldn’t have thought there was enough room. I was picturing sitting there for hours waiting to put in police reports, being late for work, generally being pissed off… but he made it. Good for him.
At Dunkin’ Donuts, both the inner and outer doors we held open for me by nice gentlemen. Peculiar, but nice.
The nice people that talk in my car in the morning told me that today is Friday the 13th. And a full moon. Cool!
And as for why it’s your lucky day? I have two parts of the snowboarding story left, and I want to get it finished by this weekend, so you’re getting them both today. It’s a three-post-Friday!
If Only I Knew How to Stop (part three of a series)
Mike, his family, and I ate a rather unsatisfying lunch in the lodge while telling Mike’s mom about our day and trading “I’m in pain” stories. The abbreviated version? My inner thigh was bruised from the J-bar, Mike’s and his dad’s asses hurt from the constant falling, and Kate’s left arm was useless due to a fall at the top of her first run. We were damaged. But we were going out again!
Tip #8 for first-time snowboarders: Even though your first morning will suck, keep at it. You actually do get marginally better in the afternoon. Don’t just give up in the first few hours because it’s hard.
So off we went again. I had confidence in my J-bar skills, due to my making it up just before lunch. But just in case, I let Kate and her dad go on ahead. Mike was lagging behind in the lodge talking to his mom. I grabbed hold of the bar, and was doing pretty good! Then… then the J-bar stopped. I didn’t fall then, but when it restarted, I was doomed. I was maybe a third of the way up, so I inched across the trail to practice a few things.
So, back to try again. There are now different people working at the bottom of the J-bar, but I’m ready. Okay, not really. I fell off three more times before my next partially successful attempt. The operators were now a girl about my age and an old man about ancient in age. She was very nice to me, and kept encouraging the hold up high thing. He tried to get me to hold on to the bottom with my left hand. At first I thought that was a good idea. But I kept falling, so I decided he was wrong.
After one trip down from a quarter of the way up or so, a ski patrol guy stopped me. He asked if I’d taken the lesson, and I told him I had and that this was my first day. He then muttered something about the angle of my bindings and offered to help me. I of course accepted. He told me that my bindings were at an angle that is good for doing tricks, but difficult to learn on. He clicked them five degrees more down hill, and sent me on my way.
Tip #9 for first-time snowboarders: Talk to the rental guys about the angle of the bindings. Ask them questions. I don’t know if every mountain will default the bindings to the trick angles, but it’s probably good to ask about it. I had a much easier time after he adjusted my bindings ever so slightly.
Through my many tries at going up the J-bar, I kept running into this same girl. She was short and wearing a bright blue coat, and she was friendly. She kept encouraging me, that I could make it up the damnable J-bar. On my final trip of the day (yes, I had wasted that much time falling off the J-bar), she was a few hooks in front of me. This time, for whatever reason, I was making it. My hands were up high, and I kept repeating “Stay standing. Stay standing. Stay standing!” She encouraged me all the way along. I was doing it! I made it to the top, high-fived the friendly girl, and smacked my boot into its binding. The new angle made that easier too.
On my way up, I had spotted Kate and Mike sprawled out on the hill only about a quarter of the way down. They had gotten up there so much faster than me, that I was concerned. As I passed them, I told them I’d be right there. I made it to within 8 yards on my first run. I then, of course, freaked out that I didn’t know how to stop and would run them over, so I plopped down to the ground. Wa-thump, wa-thump, wa-thump. I rolled over three times. I then crawled the remaining yards down to my compatriots.
When I got there, they were arguing about whether or not to just walk the rest of the way down. Kate’s arm hurt, and Mike had had an awful spill. He probably hit his head. But he assured us that he was okay, and Kate finally gave up and started her zigzag down the hill. Mike told me to go ahead, so I did. He seemed to be able to follow shortly behind me, so I stopped looking.
The bunny trail at Burke has three step-type features. It is down hill, then mostly flat, then down hill, then mostly flat, then down hill, then flat at the bottom. This time, I was determined to make it down one of the hills without falling. So as I approached the top of the second hill, I prepared myself. I made sure no one was around, pushed up off the ground, looked over my left shoulder, leaned a bit on my left foot, and took off. It. Was. Awesome.
I picked up enough speed that the wind was whistling through my helmet. I steered a few times using the turns I’d been practicing. I probably wasn’t going all that fast, but it suddenly occurred to me that I still didn’t really know how to stop. I got to the flat part and decided I was done. I tried to imitate what I saw other people doing with their snowboards to come to a sudden stop, and just did what I’d been doing all day – I sat on the snow. Wa-thump, wa-thump, wa-thump.
I think it’s really lucky that I recently learned how to fall during the ΑΨΩ 24-hour show. I was keeping my chin to my chest as I rolled, and rolling over my shoulders instead of my head. Even with my (I assume) spectacular looking falls (I mean seriously, I keep rolling over with a board attached to my feet!), I didn’t get particularly hurt. I can’t say the same for my friends…